Richard Sharpe stepped into the room just as Jessica was trying to determine exactly the price exacted from Maureen DeCampe at the hands of the madman who'd abducted and tortured her in so heinous a fashion. Jessica caught the facial expression, the glint in the eye that rose and waned all in a millisecond, one that spoke of DeCampe's honest indecision about this decision made for her, most likely, by the worried family.
Richard warmly greeted DeCampe, asking after her comfort, asking if he could get her anything from the hospital commissary.
DeCampe declined, and they said their pleasant goodbyes. On leaving the hospital, Jessica confided in Richard, holding his hand as they walked, “I believe that the nightmare ordeal that woman has gone through will decide her entire future.”
He nodded. “One way or another, I am sure it will.” They made their way down in the elevator.
“ Don't you see?” continued Jessica.
“ See what, sweetheart?”
“ That at the back of her mind, she knows that the horror she endured will always be-in one form or another-in control of her.”
“ So, what're you saying, Jess? That she can't get past this? Ever?'
“ I couldn't.”
“ But you'd have to, to live a normal life.”
“ Richard, she is adept at deflecting the depth of her pain.”
“ Isn't that preferable to the alternative? No control? To live the rest of one's life in fear?”
“ She thinks she chooses to no longer be a judge.”
“ That will be her decision.”
“ No, don't you see? She only thinks she's making the decision,” Jessica replied, throwing her hands up.
Past the information desk now and out into the light of a crisp day, they made their way to the parking lot. “She thinks she knows her mind.” All the way to the car, she kept spinning the same thought: The judge intends instead to devote all her time to her family. The family now is all around her, and outwardly all is serenity. Maybe she needs the illusion of serenity, and she even believes it herself at this time, but in six months, in a year, she might well have a change of heart and wish to return to her passion, the law.
“ But in the meantime, in a way, Jimmy Lee and Isaiah won,” Jessica said to Richard as he slipped inside the car beside her. “Those bastards will continue to run through her nightmares and continue to win, unless the woman can take real advantage of good professional help.”
“ Shannon Keyes is working on that department, my worried sweetheart. You can't do it all alone, Jess.” She leaned into him and they kissed, and he held her firmly against his chest. 'Time we got some alone time, Richard.”
“ I'm in absolute agreement, Jess. Absolutely.”
John Thorpe had returned to consciousness but remained in the hospital for long-term observation. One of his doctors feared he could lapse into a coma again. Another said this was highly unlikely. A third said there was no way to know at this point. J. T. only wanted to find his pants, get up, and get back to his lab in Quantico, vowing never to leave it ever again, feeling a great deal safer in the confines of its walls. He believed himself fully recovered from his life- threatening wound, and when he came out of the coma, he found Jessica at his bedside, fast asleep, holding his hand. He'd called this his best medicine.
Jessica insisted on remaining until she knew for certain that J. T. was out of any trouble. J. T. had been sleeping fitfully on and off since his “return.”
Eriq Santiva had come to Jessica the day after J. T. had come out of the coma. He had come to see J. T. but also to tell her again what an excellent job she had done on the DeCampe case, and that her superiors were extremely pleased with the results and her performance in particular. She had won over her worst critics in the department, according to Eriq. And then he launched into a confession of sorts, admitting how close he came to pulling her off the case when things looked at a standstill.
“ Eriq, you never fooled me.”
“ What do you mean?” He feigned ignorance.
She walked him just outside J. T.'s room and lashed out at him. “Eriq-boss-I've known since you took over the office that your ambition superseded all else, including anything we might call a relationship.”
“ Now, Jess, that's not really fair.”
“ I know you have done secret info reports on me to our superiors to-”
“ Only to… only because…”
“ I know why! To keep the bastards at bay. I know I have enemies at the highest levels of the bureau.” People milled about them where they stood in the hallway, visitors in search of room numbers, patients combating boredom, walking the corridor. Santiva's eyes followed every move made around him, a sign of paranoia, she thought. Did he really believe they were being watched?
Finally, he said in a near dead whisper, “No one can achieve as much as you have, Jess, and expect to have no enemies. Despite the good you do. Hell, we both have enemies. The higher you climb… all that…”
“ The more success you achieve, yeah, I know. Look, Eriq, like it or not, I know you're between a rock and a… a love: me. I know you would not intentionally do anything to harm me. I know we've been through hell and back together.” She had taken up his hands in hers, unable to recall the last time they had touched. “And despite you and your behavior, I love you anyway, so quit sweating the small stuff.” She gave him a wide smile and a laugh.
He laughed hard at her good nature. “Well, you survived this litmus test that asshole Nicholson and the others put us through.”
“ And you will, too, Eriq. I know you will.”
“ Not so certain of that, Jess, but to add injury to insult, they're combing over my records in quite a determined way these days. Of course, they will find some expedient information and twist it to their ends.”
Jessica had seen it before. There seemed a constant need for top-level administration to grow antsy and develop polyps up their asses and to get a burr under their collective skin whenever someone below them shone too brightly and did too well. It occurred in many a profession, and FBI work was no more an exception to this Rule of Intended Harm than the medical, legal, or even the education field where top-flight teaching became a “menace” to administrators who could not understand how top-flight teaching came about.
“ Maybe you and I are just too damned good for this place, Eriq. Ever consider private practice? We'd make a hell of a team.”
“ Nice of you to say so, Jess, but the bureau is where you belong.”
“ And so it is with you, Eriq: You've got to fight any attempt to replace you. I will do all I can to help you and stand by you; you know that.”
“ You're already under scrutiny, Jess. You'll want to distance yourself from me as much as possible.”
'To hell with that.”
Eriq laughed again.
“ Good to hear you laugh.”
“ You know your every decision for the past five, maybe ten years, Dr. Coran, will be looked into, not to mention your personal life.”
“ Let 'em look.” She also knew that her personal life had somehow become the talk of the higher-ups, and that some in the bureau believed that it had in some bizarre twist of bureaucratic illogic been shown to interfere with her judgment on the DeCampe case.
“ All the gossip, all the innuendo, all things nonsensical, our new fearless leader-Jeffrey Allen Nicholson-believes, or wants to believe. He wants to believe the worst and pursue it as such; he doesn't give a rat's ass about the source or the motive behind the source.”
“ And that source being other so-called professionals, my colleagues, people I thought my friends.”
Eriq's tight-lipped frown and groan were answer enough.
“ I've had my suspicions for some time. Carl Wittinger for one, not to mention complaints from police autopsiests like DeAngelos in Philadelphia and elsewhere.”
“ I blame the boss. The man's got the ears of a goddamn rabbit, and the brain to boot.” He laughed again. “Maybe private practice isn't such a bad idea, you know, for me, I mean.”